


Better Than Pie

by angharadismyhero



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Sex, Drunk Sex, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, ass eating, dean is bi, diner sex, ignore timelines, mentions of Destiel, not really dubious consent but alcohol is involved, vaguely wanders around canon, very mild BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 17:22:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8455228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angharadismyhero/pseuds/angharadismyhero
Summary: This work technically happens in the timeline of Dean and Benny but has no real place in canon or honestly any relevance to canon. It's porn. I didn't ship this until this scene popped into my head nearly fully-formed and well, here we are. I also wrote this all at work with nearly no revisions so please judge it in that light. Dean and Benny enjoy some time in Benny's diner and Benny brings up a subject Dean didn't know he wanted.





	

“Brother, why ain’t you tapping that sweet angel ass yet?” 

Dean is closer to drunk than his habitual alcohol consumption usually brings him, which softens his shock at Benny’s bluntness. Still, he coughs a bit into his beer before shooting Benny a half-hearted glare. They’re alone in Benny’s diner, lights off and door locked, and any customers and cases both pointedly ignored for at least a few hours. Benny had insisted on gumbo and beer, and Dean had agreed on the condition of pie. They’re sprawled out at a two-seater by the counter, beer bottles and dirty plates around them, chairs pushed back, and knees companionably bumping when they laugh. 

Benny’s leaning back in his chair, tipping towards the counter so the chair legs lift just off the floor. He probably isn’t drunk at all; Dean can’t really even figure out if vampires can get drunk, but he looks like trouble incarnate. All the buttons are open at the neck of his white henley, revealing a small patch of hair the same color as his graying beard. The look in his eyes is wicked and knowing and he doesn’t take that gaze off of Dean for a moment. 

“Cuz I know you want to and don’t even think about lyin’ to me. Ain’t no harm in enjoying allll of God’s creations, know what I mean?” He’s giving Dean shit and enjoying it, obviously, but Dean does know what he means - it’s more than Benny has admitted to before but no more than Dean suspected. It occurs to him that Benny could be very appealing to uh...some people. 

“Oh fuck off man, I’m not chasing any angels.” Dean, dodging the question and ignoring the actual angel chasing he has done, avoids Benny’s eyes. Benny just chuckles and leans forward so his chair legs thump on the floor.

“Yeah? Still don’t hear you denying you want that ass.” Benny narrows his eyes and leans closer toward Dean. “Or that cock.” 

“What the hell!” That crossed a line. Dean thinks it crossed a line, even with Benny. Closer than brothers in some ways, but they’ve never talked like that. “Where’s this coming from, Benny? You got some need to freak me out?” 

“Yeah brother, I got some need. I think you do too.” Benny braces his elbows on his knees and stares at Dean. “You don’t gotta be ashamed of what you want. And I think you want to get yourself some cock. You want that angel of yours, but I don’t think that’s all.”

Dean must be drunk, because he can’t think of any good response to that. “Man you...you..what! What are you talking about!” He’s pretty sure his face is bright red, it feels red, and hot. Everything feels hot. “Wait. Are you coming on to me?” 

“Now you’re listening!” Benny grins, that feral grin Dean remembers from Purgatory, and leans back in his chair, letting his legs fall just a little further apart. Dean gives up on words and just stares, mouth open just a little in shock.

“Come on Dean, I think you do want it.” Benny’s voice is just above a whisper this time, his Louisiana twang darker and rougher than Dean has heard it before. “I think you want this thick cock.” He draws out each word, sliding his right hand down to rest on the inside of his thigh, making it impossible to miss his intention. 

“That’s some goddamn weird pick up line, man, asking me about Cas.” 

“It’s working, ain’t it? I know you aren’t going to go after your angel, no time soon. But you got an itch, and damn if I don’t want to be the one to scratch it.” Benny lets his eyes roam down and back up Dean’s body, meeting his embarrassed stare with piercing blue eyes.

Dean is choking on his words and nothing is coming out. He’s flushed and his fucking hands are shaking, and his goddamn traitor cock is hardening and he thinks Benny can tell. Benny, apparently having said his piece, just watches. And rubs his hand over the bulge in his own jeans.

“Yes.” Dean tries to manage more than a whisper, but his voice cracks. “Uh, yes.”

“Thought so! Come on, take off those pants, boy.” Benny doesn’t bother moving. His smug expression says he knows he’s already won. 

And he has. Dean stands, unzips his pants, and then remembers his shoes. He sits back down to untie his boots. Damn, I’m usually smoother than this. And up again, to pull down his pants. 

“Come on now, boxers too.” And without a thought, those too.

“Gotta love that enthusiasm.” Benny is still in his chair, but he’s leaning forward again, staring with undisguised appreciation at the sight of Dean, nude from the waist down, cock now completely hard. Dean knows he’s worth looking at, has had plenty of approval from lovers in the past, but Benny’s gaze is intense and the attention, from his strange, dangerous, annoyingly handsome friend, is frightening and arousing. 

“Come here.” Dean steps closer, uncertain, and Benny stops him with a hand on his hip. “Now, Dean, turn around and bend over. Use that chair there if you want to lean on something.”

“Uh, what? I mean...okay.” It’s not what he expected, exactly, but Dean has found he handles unexpected pretty well, almost as well as he follows directions in bed. If he’s really being honest with himself. 

“Don’t you worry, it’s not like that.” Benny is still in his chair, still leaning forward, and he reaches one callused hand up to caress Dean’s ass, running the hand down to Dean’s inner thigh. Dean is pretty sure he whimpers when Benny’s hand slides behind his balls. 

Benny’s left hand joins his right, one on each cheek, thumbs rubbing the inside of Dean’s thighs. He hears Benny shifting in his chair and a moment later almost jumps at the new sensation - the short, bristly hairs of Benny’s beard against the cleft of his ass. 

“Shh, it’ll be good, don’t worry.” Benny soothes Dean like a frightened horse and presses his face forward, his grip tightening on Dean’s ass to spread his cheeks. When his tongue slides across his hole, Dean can only moan and grip the chair. 

Benny takes that as encouragement and pushes his face in closer, running the flat of his tongue on a path from above his hole all the way to the hot skin behind his balls, and then back up. The sensation is entirely new and overwhelming and Dean presses back, letting Benny pull his cheeks apart further. Benny’s beard rubs with frustrating, delicious friction as he presses a kiss to his hole before running his tongue around it, pushing firmly against the muscle but not in, not yet. 

When Benny does push his tongue into him Dean’s cock jerks up and he cries out. Benny slides his tongue in and out slowly, working the tight ring of muscle with an agonizingly slow rhythm. Dean reaches down to touch himself without thinking, only to receive a sharp smack across his right ass cheek and the sudden loss of Benny’s mouth.

“None of that! I’ll make sure that’s all taken care of. You just hold onto that chair.” Benny rubs his hand over Dean’s cheek and chuckles. “Oh well damn, look at that Dean, I think you liked that too.” He swats Dean across the ass again and is rewarded with a desperate moan. 

“God damn, I could sit here and redden your ass all night.” Benny’s voice is a little strangled. “But I think that’s for another time. We gotta get you ready for this thick cock I’m gunna give you.” And without further warning he pushes his tongue back into Dean, moving his hand from Dean’s ass to press his right thumb against the edges of his hole as well. 

“Oh God Benny, please. Please!” Dean doesn’t even know what he’s begging for, whether more of Benny’s mouth and fingers or less or something else entirely. He just knows he wants, wants so much that all he can feel is the wanting, and the sensation of Benny’s hot, wet tongue on him, inside him. 

Dean whines when Benny pulls away and lifts his hands off his hips. “Okay now, Dean, you can turn around.” Benny watches as Dean straightens and turns, and then, once he is sure Dean is watching, unbuckles his belt. He doesn’t look away from Dean as he unzips his pants and pushes them down to expose a cock that is everything he promised - not long, no longer than average, but thick and straight, standing hard in a patch of short, dark hair. He fishes in the pocket of his pants, bunched below his hips, and pulls out what Dean thinks is a packet of lube.

“Can’t say I wasn’t hopeful about tonight” he laughs. Dean’s brain tries to make a joke but his mouth won’t cooperate, not when Benny opens the packet and slides his wet hand over his cock. 

“All right now, you come here.” Benny sits, still in his chair, legs spread and cock jutting out of his pants. 

“Right..,there? On top? I thought…” Dean stammers.

“Yeah, come here. Don’t worry, I’ll help.” Benny is grinning, but his excitement is evident in his voice and the small jerk of his hips. Dean steps toward him and Benny grabs his hips, pulling him forward until he bumps into Benny’s knees. Benny uses a knee to push Dean’s legs apart and pulls him closer, guiding Dean to stand straddling his lap.

“Let’s put those long legs to good use” Benny whispers, and pulls Dean down, onto him. He lifts a hand off Dean’s hip to guide his cock against Dean’s slick, worked-open hole. As the thick head touches Dean, Benny’s hands pull him down the last few inches and fully onto his cock. 

Dean’s hands are on Benny’s chest and his shoulder and he braces his feet on the floor on either side of the chair but he can’t move, he’s too full and he can’t tell yet if it hurts or is the most exquisite pleasure he’s ever felt. 

Benny waits, and Dean takes a deep breath, and Benny uses his strong hands on Dean’s hips to pull him up and almost off before pushing him back down, back onto his cock, guiding Dean’s own body to fuck himself on Benny’s cock. 

Dean gives into the press of Benny’s hands and the thrust of his own body onto his cock, letting Benny guide him up and down, feeling the thick heat of Benny’s cock stretch him and slide out. Benny’s hands are gripping his hips and it would be painful if it weren’t so good and Dean is trying to help thrust with his legs, but just hanging on to Benny’s shoulders is almost more than he can manage. 

“That’s good Dean, that’s a good boy, fuck, keep doing that.” Benny is murmuring nonsense encouragement in his slow, low voice, rounded vowels like a physical caress. 

“Benny, God, Benny I’m ...please…” Dean is pleading, and thinks he might have been for a while now. His head is thrown back and his eyes closed, and when Benny wraps one hand around his cock to stroke it in time to the thrusts he is still guiding with his other hand it’s like throwing the match into the gasoline. Dean had some control before, but now he is lost, and just a few strokes pushes him over the edge. Dean gasps wordlessly as he comes, spilling onto Benny’s hand and his shirt.

“Oh that’s good Dean, that’s good.” Benny’s hands find Dean’s hips again. “And now my turn.” Benny thrusts up into Dean, harder and faster, guiding his hips with that intense grip. Dean drops his head to rest it against Benny’s, braces his arms on Benny’s chest, and lets his friend fuck him. Benny’s hands clench and he makes a sound almost like a snarl, and then with a shuddering breath, slows the relentless motion.  
Dean falls forward, sweaty and gasping, and Benny laughs breathlessly, an arm around Dean to hold him steady. 

“Benny. I had no idea.” Dean thinks about getting off of Benny’s lap, maybe trying to wipe his shirt clean, but isn’t sure he can move his legs yet.

“Brother, I know you had no idea. There’s all sorts of stuff you got no idea ‘bout.” 

“That a promise?” Dean can feel the deep chuckle through Benny’s chest. “You got any of that pie?”


End file.
